


Akaanir ner ara at gar kar'ta (fight my way to your heart)

by Melusine11



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Badass Rey, Cara Dune/Non-Binary Original Character, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Knights of Ren - Freeform, Mandalorian Rey, Only Canon Compliant Through Season 1, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Dad Din, Slow Burn, Smuggler Ben Solo, The Author only recognizes Pedro as a good bean, The First Order Is Doing it's thing, The Force, This is ours now, bye lfl I’m gonna treat your characters right, mandoloreyan, non-binary original character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:09:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22249954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine11/pseuds/Melusine11
Summary: When the fob shows up, worth more than anything she’s ever heard of, she takes it. He's wanted by both the Kanjiklub and the Guavian Death Gang.Han Solo.It would be fine, an easy job — if his son Ben Solo hadn’t gotten in the way.Now Rey, daughter of The Mandalorian, is facing down a war she was determined to stay out of.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 75
Kudos: 166
Collections: RHG: Medusa Issue #01, Reylo Hidden Gems, Solo Love Letters





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ohlittlelovely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohlittlelovely/gifts).



> This is for Ohlittlelovely who requested Ex-Jedi/Smuggler!Ben and Bounty Hunter Rey - inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/StarWarshipper/status/1209570047309561859) tweet, and told me to 'do with that what you will'. So here we are.
> 
> I have so many people to thank, but their involvement will give away my identity, so for now. You all know who you are, this fic exists because of your screaming and tolerating my questions, and being kind and patient with me. I'm so lucky to know all of you. Thank you.
> 
> Also, I named the baby - because it would have been impractical not to.
> 
>   
> 

She shifts in her seat. The steady beeping of the tracking fob keeps her attention instead of lulling her into a state of relaxation the way she normally does when she flies, accompanied by only the steady hum of the engines of her ship. 

“You can do this,” she assures herself with a firm nod, fingers flicking quickly across the dash, entering her coordinates and warming up the hyperdrive. “You can do this.”

_“Come back!” Rey’s tiny voice carries across the sand dunes, a pleading cry that the people she wants to hear cannot. “Come back!” she calls again, pulling against the fleshy hand tugging her towards the outpost._

_He grunts something and pulls so hard she stumbles backwards. She falls hard on the sandy ground and cries out when her arm protests and then pops, still in the grip of the man who owns her now. She is screaming, inconsolable, and the man — the thing — just grabs at her, tells her to get up with an angry grunt._

_A crowd is gathering, or she assumes it is, she can hear the general murmur of people, a low din that she barely registers over her own screams and the pain. The sharp sound that cuts through the noise, though, she notices that, recognizes it as a blaster being fired. The man — Unkar Plutt, she thinks is his name — seizes up, his grip on her injured arm falling slack moments before he collapses backwards._

_Rey scrambles away, awkwardly, painfully, but as quickly as she can, eyeing the smoldering hole in its face._

_“Hey kid,” a voice speaks, even and modulated, and Rey swings around to stare into her own reflection. Shining metal beneath a harsh midday sun, and she winces away from it, from the face of a scared little girl and an expressionless mask. She blinks, realizes they’re still talking to her, kneeling down beside her to speak with her._

_“What?” she whimpers, biting down hard on her lip at the way the pain from her arm lances through her._

_“I asked if you were okay, you know, besides the arm,” the voice repeats._

_Rey looks back to the body of the man who had paid her parents in spice and alcohol for her and back to the person who had shot him dead. “I’m okay,” she whispers meekly._

_“Good. Come with me.” They shift to standing, holding out a hand. Rey turns, eyeing the body, glancing towards the crowd who had began to approach, now hastily returning to the shaded safety of the outpost. Once more she looks towards the sky, where her parent’s ship has long since disappeared and then, finally, she looks back at the person offering their hand. Slowly, she reaches out with her good arm, feels the supple leather of the glove against her palm. It’s warm and steady as it tightens around her small hand, helping her stand. She bites back her cry of pain at the movement, can see the helmet shift to take in the awkward angle of her arm, but they don’t say anything, instead striding away, leaving Rey to scurry after them._

_“What’s your name, kid?” they ask as they cross the desert sands._

_“Rey,” she answers readily enough, little legs working hard to keep pace. “What about you?” They don’t answer and Rey huffs in annoyance, but doesn’t slow down._

_“Here,” they say, finally approaching a ship, and Rey watches the ramp descend and a figure appear in the opening of the hull. They look small._

_“tion'ad cuyir ibic_ (Who is this) _?” they speak, and Rey blinks. She only knows the common tongue._

_“Luubid,_ (enough) _” the masked being responds, “don’t be rude. Kir'manir, this is Rey. Rey, my son, Kir’manir.”_

_“What happened to your arm?” they ask, toddling from the shadows and Rey’s mouth drops open, gaze swinging back and forth between the two. Does the face under the mask look like that?_

_Kir’manir laughs. “I’m adopted. Come with me, I can get you to the med-droid.”_

_“I — okay,” she licks her dry lips and sets a foot on the ramp of the ship, looking up at the figure in gleaming armor, who gives her a nod. She counts her steps, breathing in slowly, trying to ignore the pain. Help is so close. She hesitates at the threshold, staring into the dimly lit belly of the ship. She can feel the presence of her rescuer behind her so she takes a deep breath and steps inside._

_“This way,” Kir’manir says, walking off, leaving Rey no choice but to follow. It’s the work of minutes, and she cries the whole time, but once her shoulder is back in place and the droid injects her with some sort of serum to limit irritation and inflammation she feels better. Until the weight of the day slams back into her and she starts crying all over again._

_A cloth is thrust in front of her face and she glances up to see Kir’manir, his eyes wide and worried. “Don’t cry,” he tells her quietly, and she sniffles, taking the cloth and burying her face in it. “I’ll be right back,” he says and she hears him scurry off._

_She cries until there are no tears left to cry, until her stomach feels twisted up in knots and she sways on the low bench that serves as the bed here in the med bay._

_“Your parents,” the voice comes, startles her eyes open. “They left you for that thing?”_

_“I-I think so, yes, they wanted-”_

_“Spice.” The voice is curt, and she winces away from it. The anger that she hears there._

_“Yes, and drink,” she responds with another sniffle. “What’s your name?” she asks, after a long uncomfortable stretch of silence._

_“How is your arm?”_

_She pouts a little. “Fine,” then draws herself up to try a different tactic. “What are you then?”_

_“Mandalorian.”_

_“Oh,” she says, like she knows that word, like she knows what that means, but she doesn’t._

_“Rey,” he says, kneeling down to her level again, “you’re coming with me, okay?”_

_“Are you going to find my parents?”_

_There’s a hesitation before he speaks. “No, Rey, I’m not.” He sounds angry, she thinks, but doesn’t understand why, so she just nods. She was already sold off to one master, what’s a new one already? This one at least seems less disgusting._

_“Okay,” she whispers, swinging her legs up onto the bed. The Mandalorian spreads a blanket over her and she pulls it up to her chin._

_“Rest well, Rey.”_

_When she wakes, she screams. Large dark eyes in a round green face are staring at her. They scream back. The Mandalorian slams into the med bay, armor clanging off of the wall and then he takes in the situation beneath his helmet. There’s a long sigh as they both calm down._

_“What did I tell you about leaving Rey alone?”_

_“I wasn’t bothering her. She woke up.”_

_The Mandalorian sighs and then in a clipped voice says, “Ba'slanar mhi. Slanar at te Kai'yam, epar_ (Get out of here, go to the kitchen, eat) _.”_

_Kir’manir rolls his wide eyes and grumbles something back before wandering off, but not before casting one lingering look back at the two of them._

_“You hungry?” he asks, turning back and switching over to common. Before Rey can even answer her stomach growls, making the masked figure chuckle. “Come with me then, we don’t have much, not until we get back home, but I think we can find something you’ll like.”_

_She follows, and sits in the chair he gestures at. Kir’manir is already there, chomping away at some kind of bar. She blinks, surprised at the pile that’s hefted onto the table._

_“Pick something.”_

_Rey reaches out a hesitant hand and picks up the first ration bar she touches. “What’s this?” she asks, eyeing the script but not able to make out the words._

_“Bantha steak. Do you like that?”_

_She lifts a shoulder. “I’ve never had it, but I’ll try anything,” she enthuses, ripping open the packaging and taking a bite. They both watch her, and she smiles as she chews. “‘S good!” She speaks around the mouthful, and the man behind the helmet makes a noise that might be a laugh, while the creature across from her digs back into his bar with renewed gusto._

_There’s a name for what she is — what the three of them are. She finds out years later. Foundlings. All of them. Abandoned by their families either by choice or war or something else, but they aren’t alone when they’re together._

_“What is it?” Rey asks, leaning forward from her seat in the cockpit, fingers brushing over the symbol on his shoulder._

_“My signet. A mudhorn. It’s the symbol of my clan.”_

_“Oh.” She sits back in her seat, watching the swirling blue of hyperspace travel. She can still feel the texture of the signet beneath her fingers._

_She learns quickly. Ship maintenance comes easy to her; she likes finding the way things fit together, the way they work. They’re both happy to let her do it, she’s small and her fingers are long and dexterous, perfect for getting into the tight spaces of the ship._

_Learning Mando’a is a different thing. Sometimes frustrating, the syllables all unfamiliar, but her family is patient with her, and when one afternoon she shouts a colorful sentence in mixed common and Mando’a after a delicate part snaps in her fingers, everyone freezes. Then Mando ruffles her hair the next time he passes by her._

_The first time Kir’manir leans over and whispers ‘_ watch this _’ to her and he begins floating rocks she’s sure she is dreaming. She doesn’t move as she watches them circle his hand and then fall to the ground with a clatter._

_Rey licks her lips, and he does it again. “Kandosii'la_ (Amazing) _,” she enthuses with a grin. “Do you think I can do that?” she asks, imitating his stance and holding out her hand. Nothing happens._

_“You don’t have the gift,” he says with a shrug and Rey pouts, kicking at the ground. It takes them five minutes to turn it into a game, Rey throwing rocks at him, while he deflects them back at her. They call it a tie when they can’t agree on how to keep track of points._

_It takes two years before the Mando finally tells her his name. Din Djarin. He claims it’s because he’s tired of her addressing him as just ‘hey’, and then she asks if they share a last name now too since they’re family. His ‘no’ is absolute, curt but gentle, the way he almost always tends to be. Kir’manir tells Rey they can be twins since they both don’t have a last name. It’s the first time Rey hugs him._

_A week later they land on a planet named Nevaaro. Din tells them he has business here, and Kir’manir is acting more excitable than usual, and it’s only after they’re in tunnels beneath the town she finds out why._

_“Another one, then?” A voice asks, decidedly feminine, and Rey peeks out from around Din’s legs to take the person in. A golden helmet and a coat made of fur that Rey longs to touch. “Still nothing?” she asks, helmet turning towards Kir’manir, who wanders off to poke at a set of armor on a table._

_“No.”_

_“I see, and what’s your name?” She looks now at Rey._

_“Rey,” she answers, “just Rey.”_

_“Well, just Rey,” the woman answers, “I’m the armorer, and_ this is _for you. You must keep it safe.” It’s silver and beautiful and heavy in Rey’s small hand, but she recognizes it. A match to the necklace that adorns her brother’s neck. A mythosaur skull._

_She learns to shoot blasters, and fight. She assembles a staff from scavenged parts from the planets they visit for bounties Din fills. Then she learns to fight with that. She is maybe ten and can hit a target better than a stormtrooper can — at least, that’s what Din tells her. She just nods. He keeps telling her it’s only for self-defense, so she and her brother can keep themselves safe if something should go wrong on one of his jobs. Rey knows, though, that one day she wants to be just like Din._

_Rey doesn’t like the way Din tells her no when she reveals her grand plan, grown-up and determined, pulling herself up to her full height at the tender age of 13. He sits her down in front of a datapad and tells her to keep studying. Rey waits until he leaves her little cabin before sneaking out and looking for her brother. She finds him in the galley, sitting at the table and sipping a cup of caf._

_“I can fight,” she rages, pacing the space, ripping off chunks of a nutrition bar and chewing angrily. “I’m_ good _at it.”_

_“You think you’re good at it, all you’ve proven to be good at is hitting targets that don’t move and sometimes landing blows on an actual Mandalorian.”_

_Rey scoffs. “What do you know, you’re just a_ you _.” She gestures at all of him, short and green and wrinkled and not yet an adult as far as they can tell. Din assures them both that they’re close to the same age, have to be with the attitude and bouts of moody episodes they’re both prone to. She gestures again, her shoulders sagging, knowing her words have fallen flat and far from their intent. Especially when he grins at her, slow and almost cunning — if her brother had a cunning bone in his body._

_“I’m older than you are.”_

_“Yeah, well, I’m taller.”_

_Din finds them, Rey still sulking, Kir’manir with another cup of caf but amicably playing what he thinks is Questions Three. He knows he hasn’t heard the last from Rey, knows it by the way she watches him, gaze shrewd and sharp, the way she efficiently helps to clean and maintain his weapons. She will wait, and he will do what he can to hold it off as long as possible. He can’t protect her from the future forever._

_She keeps training, keeps fighting, keeps working._

_“Ori'vod,_ (Big Brother) _” she sings one afternoon while they’re planetside._

_“Vod_ (Sister) _,” Kir’manir mutters back, not liking the way Rey is smiling at him. “You’re scheming.”_

_Rey smiles. “I would never.”_

_“Jahaatir_ (Liar) _,” he scoffs and Rey reaches for him; he lets her take his hand._

_“You have the Force,” Rey says as they walk, “I don’t.”_

_He hesitates for a long moment, and then: “That’s not how the Force really works.”_

_“You don’t actually know how it works.”_

_“It’s a feeling. I can feel it, but I can also harness it, use it. I’ve always been able to.” He shrugs and Rey stares at him. The gesture, no matter how many times he does it, still looks foreign on his small frame._

_“Could you_ hypothetically, _of course, throw me?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Stop a blaster bolt?”_

_“Yes. I think I see where this is going — Din won’t like it.”_

_“It can be our little secret,” Rey assures, bouncing on her toes. Limbs long and lithe, on the cusp of adulthood, but still feeling so far away._

_Din is no stranger to the antics the two of them get up to as they get older, but they both know at some point he will hit his limit for what he allows._

_Rey always strikes when he’s out of the house they share — when they’re not out running missions, or, while Din runs missions and they guard the ship._

_“Why do you even think this is a scenario you might ever come across?” Kir’manir asks after launching Rey across the yard for the tenth time, now watching her stagger to her feet._

_“Ret’lini_ (Just in case) _,” she tells him, breaths coming more like desperate pants, and she taps the side of her head. “Ret’lini.”_

_They stare at each other across the trampled and worn grass, and she smiles a little when he huffs in part exasperation, part affection. “Only you, Rey.”_

_“I know you’ve heard things. Things maybe you aren’t supposed to hear.” Rey walks closer and settles herself on the ground. They’re almost at eye level like this. She watches the way his ears turn down just a bit. “I’ve heard them too,” she whispers._

_“I will help,” he eventually tells her, his three fingers reaching, grasping at her shoulder. “I will try.”_

_As the day settles towards dusk, Din finally returns home and catches their antics, storming into the yard between them as Rey is in the middle of using the momentum of a push to vault off of the closest wall._

_“Vaabir gar ganar a kyr'am vercopaanir_ (Do you have a death wish) _?” he shouts at her, then turns to Kir’manir, and Rey watches her older, little brother sag under the weight of the Mandolorian’s sightless gaze. “Gar kar'taylir jate'shya_ (You know better) _.”_

_“Ni cuyir ni cet_ (I'm sorry) _,” he apologizes quietly, gaze down and hands clasped together at his front._

_“Buir_ (Father) _,” Rey blurts, rushing closer to take the weight of the blame, but the word pulls them all up short. It’s one they all know, but have never used between them._

_There is the sudden urge to apologize. She can feel the words on her tongue, but then Din moves and it halts her. For over eight years he has kept his face hidden away behind a mask. Sometimes she had caught glimpses of him, the slant of his nose, his salt and pepper hair, but she was always quick to look away, move elsewhere, not get caught, because ‘This is the way’. Now though, her breath is stolen from her lungs at the sight of him and her eyes well with tears because he has such kind eyes, just like she knew he would._

_“Rey.” For the first time, she hears his voice, clear and unobstructed, and she begins to cry. “Ad’ika_ (Daughter) _,” he rasps, reaching for her and Rey goes willingly, and then Kir’manir is pressed up beside her and she works an arm around him. They are not blood, but they are family. They are hers and she is theirs. Her father and her brother._

_It takes her several tries, but the word finally comes again, this time in common. “Dad,” she breathes, inhaling the scent of him, feeling the heat of them both and she loves them. Do they even know how much she loves them?_

_“Aliit ori'shya tal'din_ (Family is more than blood) _,” Din whispers, soothing her, and she nods against the warm soft skin of his neck. A familiar phrase — she hears it uttered within the walls of the Mandalorian safe houses._ Family is more than blood _. This is her family. None of them share blood, but it doesn’t matter, and she feels as if a weight has been lifted from her. A long lingering fear — claws stretching through the darkness — can no longer grab her. She will not be left, not this time._

_Din keeps his helmet off all through dinner, and Kir’manir brags about having seen his face once before (an accident), so Rey sticks out her tongue and things mostly go back to normal._

_She gets her own armor at sixteen, much later than Din ever did, she learns, and locks herself away behind a mask._ This is the way _they say, and Rey doesn’t know if that’s always true, but it’s what she comes to know behind her beskar. She views the world through a gaze filled with information, heat signatures and distance calculations, but she lives for the quiet moments where she can take off her helmet and take in the land with her own eyes._

_“An easy one,” Din reminds her outside of the cantina where the guild leader is waiting with jobs and fobs to match._

_“I know,” Rey answers, nod firm as she looks up at him. She wonders what he sees, does he see himself? Does he see her potential? Does he see all of the ways she could fail at this, fail him? She knows what she sees when she looks up at him. Steady, stalwart, her rescuer, her chosen father. She sees something to live up to._

_“Are you sure this is what you want? It’s not too late, you’re under no obligation yet.”_

_“Yes,” she affirms, stepping into the shadow of the building, and then striding through the door, attempting to look far more confident than she feels._

_Her first fob is a simple one. Just a retrieval of some items of importance to the guild. She doesn’t ask what, and she spends a long moment staring down at the corpse she has made. It’s not her first kill, but it is the first that will net her a profit. It seems right to her, to etch the job in her memory, to try to never forget._

_She returns home teetering on the edge of the victory of a job well done and the weight of the knowledge that this is her life now. That night she crawls into bed with Kir’manir for the first time in a long time. Free of her armor and the burdens that come with it._

_“Don’t hog the blankets this time,” he grumbles, tossing some over her, still half asleep._

_“I won’t,” she promises, keeping her voice quiet._

_“You shouldn’t feel guilt,” he tells her, long after she thinks he has fallen back asleep._

_“I’m not. I don’t. I don’t know what I feel.”_

_“It’s the change. It’s natural, growing, changing. You are where you’ve wanted to be finally. What comes next?”_

_“The next job, I suppose.”_

_“Yes.” He turns in the bed, and Rey looks at him, wide eyes like a void in his face within the darkness of the room. “There was another skirmish. The First Order — it’s all strategic, showing more and more of their power each time. Father and you will have to choose eventually.”_

_“The guild doesn’t side in wars,” Rey answers quickly and she watches his right ear twitch. “Nor does a hunter. Dad said we — our clan would stay neutral.”_

_“Rey, can’t you feel it?”_

_“Feel what?” she asks, fingers picking at the sheets._

_“Never mind. Just know, it’s going to get worse. I was alive when the Empire was, and while I don’t remember much, I remember that it took my family, it brought me to Din, almost took me away from him. The empire was hunting me, you know this.” Rey nods against the pillows. “Bounties come from people with money.”_

_“I know.” Rey grouses, well aware of the way things work. “I’ll be careful, okay?”_

_And she is. Never pulling a job that blatantly comes from the First Order or the Resistance. She tiptoes along some grey middle line. It’s all about balance. So when this fob shows up, worth more than anything she’s ever heard of, she takes it. The only catch is, she’s now working for two rival gangs. Rey reasons it’s better than the other options. She can get her way out of a sticky situation here, whereas if she somehow got on the wrong side of the First Order, she’d be a dead Mando. Plus, she’s always heard the rumors._

She drops out of hyperspace right where she needs to be and feels her breath catch. She knows this place. Jakku.

Her eyes scan the sky as she steps from her ship. She knows they won’t suddenly be back, hell, they aren’t even alive anymore. It had taken Din a while to give in and track them down. Both of them dead in a spice den on one of the lowest levels of Coruscant. It hurt her then. She finds peace with it now.

The tracking fob is easy enough to follow, and she finds herself on the outskirts of an outpost. It’s different from her dreams, sharper, more alive. Very much alive. There’s some sort of scuffle happening beneath the canopies. 

A screaming whirling blur of orange and white shoots out in her direction from beneath the legs of some alien, and they turn to scream at it. It’s really not her business, what goes on in backwater desert towns, but it smacks into her shins and almost knocks her off of her feet. Rey is pretty sure training with her brother is the only thing that saves her. 

“Catch that ball!” A rough voice shouts and Rey turns to find a tall older man, probably close to Din’s age, but with far more grey to his hair running out of the outpost, blaster in his hand. Her tracker goes wild and she knows she’s looking at Han Solo. She could let the droid go, in favor of capturing her quarry, but knows she will have the advantage if she suddenly has something he wants.

She turns, can hear his pounding footsteps across the sand behind her, but she’s younger, and faster, even weighed down by her beskar. The little droid screams again, and picks up its pace, kicking up sand. If she weren’t wearing a helmet, it might be inconvenient. Her whipsnare shoots out from the back of her wrist, tangling up around the droid and grinding it to a halt. She retracts the cable as she approaches.

“Hello, ball,” she greets, only to be greeted by a wild, high pitch string of binary she can’t quite parse.

Then he’s there, and she’s got her blaster in hand.

“Han Solo.” She levels the weapon at him, watches his expression change and his hands fly up to either side of his head. “I’ve been looking for you.”

He laughs, nervously. “Look, kid, I don’t know who told you what, but I don’t tangle with your kind. Not anymore.”

“No? Well, the people you _do_ tangle with, called me in to help.”

“Well, let me explain.”

“I don’t care. That’s not my job. So we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Hot or cold, old man.”

“ _Old man_?” he questions, incredulous. Behind her mask, Rey rolls her eyes, yanks at the cord as the droid beeps at her and tries to move. “Old man?” he repeats. “I’ll have you know-”

But Rey never finds out what it is he would have her know, because darkness comes over her and she’s falling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read so far, and to all of the usual suspects for your help!

Rey jerks awake, immediately reaching for her face, breathing a sigh of relief to find her helmet still in place. Whoever knocked her out didn’t have much honor, attacking her from behind like that, but at least they didn’t take her armor off — just divested her of her most obvious weapon. Well, some of her most obvious weapons. She takes in her surroundings, wrists twisting the cuffs restraining her. Amateurs. She’s on a ship, can feel the subtle vibrations that let her know they’re in flight. Not the best discovery, but she can work with that.

She fiddles with her gloves, the beskar gauntlets that cover the leather that keeps her safe. Tucked within the broad plate is her way out. She wedges a gloved fingertip against it, exhaling in relief when the small pick springs free, then works quickly to free herself from the cuffs, catching them before they can fall to the floor with an incriminating clatter.

Standing, she settles the cuffs on the seat she had been propped up in. She’s in a common area, which is at best an interesting choice, at worst, completely stupid.

She feels fine, not groggy at all, which has her curious about how she got knocked out, and she doesn’t hurt, which means whoever did it caught her before letting her hit the ground. She could almost consider it sweet of them, but they knocked her out, so it’s a wash.

The Dejarik board in front of her springs to life with the lightest touch, surprising her, but not as much as the small orange and white droid does, rolling into the room with a quiet beep.

“Hello, ball,” she greets. “We had a rough start. Your antenna is bent.” It rocks slightly closer, beeps a greeting and she kneels down in front of it. “May I?” she asks, reaching for the bent antenna. It tilts its head towards her and she begins righting it. 

“Don’t suppose you know where we are?” she asks after she’s done. The droid wobbles and chirrups at her. She nods. “Classified, of course.” She rises to stand and takes another look around. Everything is wholly unremarkable. There are signs of general wear and tear, and just a hint of neglect, but it tells her nothing that she cares to know. 

Carefully she moves around, keeping her tread quiet. The low hum of the engines is enough to help her keep things muffled. So it’s no impressive feat that she can creep up close enough to the cockpit without notice, able to eavesdrop in on whoever is in there. There’s a quiet beep and a click, the sign of a holocall ending, and then a stretch of silence.

“That probably could have gone better,” the recognizable raspy voice of Han Solo reaches her ears as she slinks closer to the cockpit.

“It’ll be fine,” sighs another voice that makes Rey pause. There was no mention of a human co-pilot, only a Wookiee, who is still suspiciously absent. “We rescued her droid, we found your ship. All in all a successful day.” 

A grunt is the only answer forthcoming and she takes another step forward.

“How are you gonna explain the Mando?” The unknown voice asks.

“I’m not.”

A scoff. “Mom always finds out. You should tell her, it’s not like her dad is helping the Hutt cartel this time. We haven’t even moved anything for them in years.”

“Ben.” Rey can hear the warning in the tone and smirks beneath her mask. 

“Yeah, yeah ‘ _quit making jokes about your grandfather, Ben,’_ anyway.” There’s a creaking of leather and she shuffles even closer. “We’ve got company.”

The shadow of him spills into the hallway, and he has to duck through the doorway that separates the cockpit from the rest of the ship. When he draws up to his full height, Rey hesitates. It’s not that he’s tall — she’s taken down aliens bigger than him — it’s just that he’s incredibly striking and handsome.

_And_ tall.

“Hey Mando,” he says, absurdly casual, going so far to loop his thumbs through his holster belt and lean against the curved wall of the ship with one shoulder. 

“Where am I?” she asks instead, stance steady and tense, ready.

“You’re my guest.” She scoffs, rolls her eyes behind her mask.

“Sure I am, that’s why I was cuffed back there.”

“And yet, here you are. We took your weapons.”

Thankfully, they missed several still on Rey’s person, she clicks her tongue before sneering, “that’s adorable.” Then she strikes. It takes two steps to reach him, and he’s ready for her, catching the punch she throws at his face. Her boot comes down against his instep and he grunts, taken by surprise. She attempts to bring him to the ground, but his free hand reaches up, and she swerves away from his grip, but he’s not trying to touch her at all. A fact she finds out when she’s pushed backwards through the hall.

“HEY!” Han shouts. “Don’t break my ship!”

Rey doesn’t know the layout of the ship as well as she would like, and it’s that fact alone that has her activating the grappling hook in her vambraces. It just misses Ben, plunging into the paristeel wall of the ship with a quiet _clink_. The shock on his face is a brilliant thing as she retracts it, sliding towards him. He catches her, turning them with a grunt so they slam into the wall, forearm up against her throat. She hisses, arm twisted awkwardly between them until Rey cuts the grapple cord with a quick order through her helmet interface, she tugs her arm over and up catching him in the chin. He swears, stumbling back from her, large hand cupping his jaw.

“You really don’t want to do this,” he tells her, rolling his jaw and glaring at her.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you,” she quips back, watching the way he’s drawing her backwards through the ship. Know’s he leading her towards where she woke up. 

There’s a blaster on his hip, and some other weapon, so all she has to do is make sure he can’t reach either of them. Easy enough. He dips beneath her punch this time, and it’s absolutely ridiculous, how fast he can move for being as large as he is. She catches his right forearm before he can rise, and twists it and him until he’s spun around, facing away from her.

His other hand is still free though, and she releases him in a panic when he reaches back, brushes against the smooth lines of her helmet.

“Don’t,” she hisses, hating the way he’s smirking at her now when he turns to face her.

“Afraid, little Mando?” he taunts, taking another step back.

“No,” she grits out, stopping in the hall now. 

“I think you are,” he tells her, voice pitched low. “To be unmasked–”

“You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough,” he replies, confident, and then he rushes her. He’s fast, and he’s strong, but she’s in armor, and he’s not. So he can’t outright hit her unless he wants to hurt himself, so it’s a game of positioning for him. And he gets her where he wants her. She steps back, avoiding him, and with an unseen flush realizes she’s back where she started. 

“Now,” he says, and then moves so fast she can’t avoid him. She’s pressed chest first against the wall, and he’s got both of her wrists in a firm grip. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” he growls, pressing the full weight of his body against her when she begins to squirm.

“Kriff off,” she hisses, throwing her head back. It catches him in the chin. Again. And he releases her with a cry of pain.

Beneath their feet the ship jolts and she stiffens when Han Solo steps through the door, looking annoyed, the Wookiee she had heard about right behind him.

“Are you two kids done flirting back here?” Behind her, Ben grunts and Rey turns her head to take in her quarry. “That’s what I thought,” Han says, sounding satisfied. “What’s your name, Mando?”

Rey turns and rests against the wall of the ship. “Rey,” she sighs, rolling her shoulders.

“Rey what?”

“What does it matter?”

“Doesn’t,” Han says with an easy shrug, “come on.” He spins on his heel and begins to leave, Wookiee trailing him. Ben knocks into her as he passes and she hisses at him.

“Hang on,” she calls, pushing past Ben and striding quickly after Han.

“Listen, kid, I have a job to do, and I don’t tangle with Mandos anymore, but I’d be willing to take you on for a quick job, pay you double whatever whoever sent you is paying. Who did send you, by the way?” he asks, stepping off the ship they had taken her from Jakku in and into the small hangar bay of a larger ship. BB-8 rolls by, circling the space they’re in, small attachment popping out of its body to poke at something on the floor. 

Rey looks away with a sigh, she’s trapped here, might as well go along with it. “Kanjiklub.”

“Ha!” Han laughs. “Those fools.”

“And the Guavian Death Gang,” she finishes, watching his face pale.

“That’s, huh, less than ideal.”

“Less than ideal?!” Ben interrupts, “Dad–”

Han waves him off. “It’s fine.” He turns to Rey. “The job?”

“What is it?”

“Kriffing ridiculous,” Ben declares, disappearing around a corner.

“Ignore him, walk with me.” Rey glances at the Wookiee, who nods his furry head and Rey follows Han into the narrow corridor of the cargo ship. She’s not an idiot, she’s outnumbered and outmatched here, so she’ll play the long game. “That’s Chewie, by the way,” Han says, waving at the Wookiee, who gives her a little wave. “So, Rathtars,” Han declares, quickly switching subjects and Rey is sure she mishears him.

“I’m sorry, I could have sworn you said Rathtars.”

“I did. Got three of them going to King Prana.”

“Are you crazy?”

“That’s what I said weeks ago,” Ben drawls, sounding smug as he appears from seemingly nowhere and makes her jump.

“Where’s the rest of your crew, there’s no way–”

“This is what’s left of the crew. So, are you in or out?”

“A friendly reminder, we have your weapons,” Ben goads, deftly twirling her staff around.

“Again, it’s adorable you think that.”

Ben scoffs. “Where else could you possibly be hiding weapons?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she quips back, and they all freeze when a distant banging sounds.

Han looks over at Chewie with a frown. “Don't tell me a Rathtar's gotten loose,” he says, looking more annoyed by the prospect than actually alarmed. He turns on his heel, moving quickly back into the hangar, all of them following, BB-8 beeping a question.

“Oh, wow, we came in on that? What a piece of junk,” Rey blurts, surprised as she finally looks over the freighter parked in the hangar. “Is that really a Corellian YT–”

“Yes,” Han says, cutting her off with a wave of his hand as he heads towards a control panel.

She lingers before following after him. “Force, when did they stop making that model?”

Beside her both Ben and Chewie snort. “Well before I was born,” Ben chuckles, tossing her staff back and forth between his hands, then freezing and pulling it closer to inspect it. “Where did you get this?” he asks slowly, leveling it close to her face.

“I built it, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Oh great,” Han grunts, face growing pale even as his eyes scan the images on the control panel. Rey peeks over his shoulder just in time to watch a transport ship land on the freighter they’re in. “It’s the Guavian Death Gang — they must’ve tracked us from Nantoon.”

“Those kriffing moof milkers,” Rey grunts. Then: “Nantoon? You took the Rathtars to Nantoon?”

“Listen Mando, I don’t have time for twenty questions, especially when you’re the one asking,” he declares, a slight tremor of fear in his voice as he heads off back into a long corridor peppered with doorways for entrance into the cargo containers.

Rey takes off after him. “Who wouldn’t even be one if your son–” she gesticulates a bit and Ben snorts.

“I knocked you out...using the Force.”

“Which was incredibly rude and uncalled for.”

Ben scoffs. “Says the person who was attempting to put my dad into carbonite.”

“I was not — only if he wouldn’t have cooperated.”

“Yeah, get to know him, he wasn’t gonna cooperate.”

Han rounds on them both suddenly. “You’re both getting below deck,” he announces, and Rey watches Chewie haul up a metal hatch in the floor.

“The hell I am,” Ben argues, stepping back, away from the hatch.

“Ben,” Han growls, and Rey bites her lip to keep quiet at the sudden display of ire. “You’re getting down in there, and you’re staying there until I say so.” He turns and points at Rey. “Don’t even _think_ about slipping out of here and attempting to take the Falcon.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to attempt to fly that thing.”

“Sweetheart, crazy is my middle name. Now _get in_. Both of you.”

“What about BB-8?” Ben asks, tilting his head towards the small droid as Rey drops down into the open space.

“He’s staying with me. Once I get rid of the gang you’re going to take it and the Mando and get to your mother.”

“What about the Rathtars?” Rey asks, stepping out of Ben’s way, catching her staff as he throws it down to her. “Where, uh, where are you keeping them?” 

Han doesn’t even have time to answer. The timing is impressive as a wide maw and giant tongue slams against the cargo container window Ben had just been standing in front of.

“One right there,” Han offers, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb and Rey rolls her eyes.

“Dad–” Ben starts, kneeling down into the space while Chewie tries to close the hatch. “What are you going to do?”

“Same thing I always do,” Han says with a smirk. “Talk my way out of it.”

Beside her Ben groans, and Chewie moans something she doesn’t understand, as the hatch closes over them.

“Yes, I do.” Han points at the Wookiee, sounding offended. “Every time.”

Ben releases a long sigh. “We’re doomed.”

Rey just gapes at him. Not that he knows it, hidden as she is, but there’s no time to say anything else because the portal at the far end of the hall hisses open, followed by the sound of multiple footsteps. Rey carefully gets her staff back over her back.

“Han Solo.” A man neither of them can see speaks up. “You are a dead man.”

Above them, they can see Han’s feet shift, and BB-8 looking between them. She doesn’t know if droids can actually get nervous, but this one seems like it is. 

“Bala-Tik. What’s the problem?” Han greets, sounding far cockier than a man being hunted by the gang in front of him should sound.

“Can you see them?” Ben’s voice surprises her and she shakes her head. “Let’s move.”

Reckless, she thinks as he begins to crawl forward, but she follows him until she’s close enough to them for the receptors in her helmet to pick up their heat signatures. She tugs at Ben’s boot to stop and him and he stills. 

She shuffles as silently as she can up next to him. “There’s seven of them,” Rey whispers, shifting now in the space they’re squeezed into so they aren’t nearly so close. She’s sure, pressed here as they are she would be able to feel him breathe.

“How do you know that?” Ben asks quietly back.

Rey just taps at her helmet as Bala-Tik begins to speak again. “The problem is we loaned you fifty thousand for this job.” There’s a pause and then he speaks again, sounding smug. “I heard you also borrowed fifty thousand from Kanjiklub.”

Ben hisses between his teeth even as Han rallies. “You know you can’t trust those little freaks! How long’ve we know each other?”

“Blasters?” Ben asks while his father continues to talk.

“Oh yeah. A lot of ‘em,” she answers readily and watches Ben’s jaw tense with the knowledge, but he doesn’t speak.

“The question is how much longer will we know each other? Not long. We want our money back now,” Bala-Tik drawls, sounding almost gleeful.

“Ya think hunting Rathtars is cheap?” Han asks, sounding affronted. “I spent that money!”

“Kanjiklub wants their investment back, too.”

Exasperated now, Han shouts. “I never made a deal with Kanjiklub!”

There is a noise, almost a chortle of laughter, and then Bala-Tik speaks again. “Tell that to Kanjiklub.”

Rey and Ben turn towards each other as they hear, now at the opposite end of the hall another portal opening.

“Tasu Leech,” Han starts, and Ben swears. “Good to see you.”

Rey hears an alien begin to speak, one whom she can only guess is the Tasu Leech in question. All she knows is that the Guild is going to be hearing about this. It hasn’t even been a week. She’s well ahead of schedule, but these idiots seem content to dish out money for a Rathtar job and loathe to let it go when it comes to hiring others to clean up their mess. A sound of a weapon cocking shoots through the space and she and Ben awkwardly turn to crawl towards the new gang.

“Boys,” Han says, sounding nervous, but playing it off. “You’re both gonna get what I promised! Have I ever not delivered for you before?”

Rey’s stomach drops when Bala-Tik answers ‘yeah’ and Tasu Leech makes what she guesses is an affirmative noise.

“When was the second time?” Han asks.

“Kriffing hell,” Ben mutters, just ahead of her, and above them, she can hear Chewie sort of groan.

“Your game is old,” Bala Tik says, sounding incredibly bored now. “There’s no one in the galaxy left for you to swindle, and nowhere to hide.” Tasu Leech makes a noise of agreement. “That BB unit — the First Order is looking for one just like it. And they’ve still got that mark out on your son, I’m sure you’ve seen him around.” His tone switches to smug. Ben suddenly stops crawling, body lined with tension, and Rey freezes too. it takes Han a long moment to recover.

It takes him a long moment to recover. “First I’ve heard of it,” Han declares, voice rough and low and unconvincing.

Rey turns her head slowly to look at Ben. He’s refusing to look at her, gaze fixed on his hands as he clenches them into tight fists. 

An order is barked out in an alien tongue matching Tasu Leech’s speech and Rey doesn’t need to understand it to hear the instruction in it. Footsteps land heavily on the surface above them and Rey catches the flash of light that slices down into their space for a moment.

“Let’s go,” she urges, tugging at Ben. If he doesn’t move they’re going to get caught, and while Rey knows she’ll make it out fine, protected by her beskar and with a job from both of them to boost her standing, well. Let no one ever say she didn’t have a heart.

She moves as quickly as her armor will allow her to while staying quiet in the opposite direction. Away from the light that keeps shining down into the space they’re barely hiding in. Ben is right behind her and then it opens up. Rey takes note of the junction box area and she slides over to it, giving it a look over.

“What are you doing?” Ben asks, voice hard and panicked as he lands, back against the wall next to her.

“Shhh,” she hisses, fingers trailing over controls now. “If we close the blast doors in that corridor, we can trap both gangs!”

“Close the blast door?” Ben asks, “from here? Are you crazy?!”

“Yeah — wait, no. Yes to from here. I’m not crazy. If we reset the fuses that should do it,” she tells Ben, ignoring the way he smirks when she first says ‘yeah’. She begins working, flinching back when the fuses begin to spark and Ben sighs as if extremely put upon.

“Let me help,” he says, rolling towards her. “Knowing my luck so far today you’ll manage to make the whole ship explode.”

“I would not,” she bites back, knocking his hands out of the way as they work over one another to reset the fuses. “Done,” she declares, feeling hopeful. Ben nods, still tense, but looking happier as well.

One by one the lights begin to go off until they’re all submerged in darkness.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Ben asks.

“Uhhh, no?”

“No? What do you mean no?”

Rey doesn’t get a chance to answer. All of the lights suddenly come back on at once.

“What did you do?” Ben grits, both of them flinching as the slithering damp noise of a Rathtar breaking free from it’s container sounds above them.

“Wrong fuse,” Rey reluctantly admits.

From elsewhere above them they both hear Bala-Tik shout. “Kill them! And take the droid.”

“Kriff,” Ben grunts. “Hurry.” He scrambles around her and down another corridor and Rey follows, sighing in relief when they get to a hatch. Ben moves to push it open and then freezes when blaster fire sounds, followed by screams. Footsteps pound overhead and there’s a lot of shouting, followed by a snarl. Rey glances up in time to watch one of the Kanjiklub members get yanked off of their feet by a tentacle and then disappear with a scream that cuts off abruptly.

“This was a mistake,” Ben says and Rey snorts.

“Huge. Wait. The fuses or the Rathtars?”

“At this point? Both.” They wait a bit longer until they’re sure the coast is clear of gang members and horrific tentacle monsters who are apparently very hungry. Once sure, he pushes the hatch open and hauls himself up. She’s surprised when he reaches a hand in for her. “Come on,” he urges, shaking his hand even as she hesitates to take it.

He’s strong, or maybe it’s because he can use the Force, she doesn’t know, but he hauls her up like she weighs nothing, and she stumbles into him as she lands on her feet. “Sorry,” she mutters, then together they help quietly lower the hatch.

“Let’s go.” He grabs her hand, then thinks better of it, quickly releasing it and taking off down the hall, Rey hot on his heels. They skid into a cross-section of halls, and Rey gapes at the scene of gang members from both gangs attempting to fight back against one of the Rathtars. Ben grabs her again but doesn’t let go, pulling her after him. She has no choice but to trust him in this maze of a cargo ship.

They go careening around a corner and Rey’s arm jolts as Ben pulls her back, away from the Rathtar that has just lumbered into the corridor with them. Her hand twists to wrap around his forearm.

“Kriff. This way!” He turns, pushing her in front of him as she stumbles to change her trajectory. A noise escapes Ben, not quite a scream, but a quiet sound of alarm, and he’s suddenly slipping from her. Rey spins, scrabbling to keep holding on even as a Rathtar tentacle winds further up his leg. “Run!” he shouts at her, looking determined.

“Are you crazy?” she shouts back in horror as the Rathtar begins to pull him away. She chases them, surprised by how fast the beast moves for its size, and weighed down by a flailing body. Most of her heavier weaponry would injure Ben if she would use it in these narrow halls, so she’s left hoping one of her blasters will be enough. 

It’s small, one she keeps strapped to her calf inside of her boot, and she curses the seconds she wastes kneeling low enough to grab it before straightening and tearing down the hall. She wants to balk at Ben, who is attempting to use his hands to pry the tentacles off of himself, but instead she lines up her shot. A weal of red streaks over the beast’s flesh, far enough away from Ben that he wasn’t in danger of getting hit. The Rathtar doesn’t react, so she shoots again. This time the blast makes the beast roar.

“What are you doing?” Ben manages to shout back at her.

“Helping!” she shouts back.

“The hell you are!” She shoots again, then follows them around a corner. Ben is swearing up a storm and then he moves, arm bent at what looks like an uncomfortable angle. She freezes in surprise as he cuts himself free with a glowing blue blade. The Rathtar screams as its tentacles drop to the floor with wet smacks, and then Ben lunges, running his blade into the body of the beast as it squeals and then falls still. A smoking hole remains when he pulls the weapon free. It makes a quiet sort of zipping noise as the blade disappears and he clips it back onto his belt with an air of nonchalance before turning towards her.

“You finished helping?”

“Are you finished needing rescuing?” His jaw drops open before it snaps shut and color suffuses his cheeks.

“Let’s go,” he says instead of some sort of comeback she’s sure he wanted to say. He jogs past her to a control panel she missed while chasing Ben and the Rathtar. His eyes scan through the images, Rey watches Bala-Tik run through the halls being chased by yet another Rathtar before they both notice Han and Chewie in the hangar bay.

“There!” They say together, pointing at the same time. He glances over at her, a slow turn of the head and she shrugs.

“Come on, Mando.”

They’re reckless this time, full out running until they reach the hangar. A blaster bolt shoots by Rey’s shoulder and she knocks into Ben as she attempts to correct her course, right arm lifting and ready to fire back when Han’s voice shouts at them.

“Sorry! Thought you were one of them. Hurry and get on the _Falcon_ , you two! We’ll cover you.”

It’s as if Ben can sense her urge to argue because he wraps his hand around her arm again and pulls her towards the smaller ship. She can hear Chewie, Han and the whirring of BB-8 following them both up the ramp. Someone hits a button and the ramp ascends, while Han pushes through towards the cockpit.

Blaster fire comes from the hanger, Rey can hear it ping off of the hull of the ship, and follows everyone into the now crowded cockpit.

“Can you even do that?!” Ben is asking, throwing himself into the co-pilot’s chair.

Han turns to him, blindly firing up the ship. “I never ask that question until I’ve done it, you know that, kid.”

“You’ll kill us all,” Ben moans, but the ship roars to life.

Chewie chuffs something at Han and Rey screams when the sharp-toothed mouth of one of the remaining Rathtars clamps onto the viewport of the cockpit. Then the ship jolts and it’s flesh peels away.

“Gross,” Rey mutters, just as alarms start to blare.

“What the kriff is that?” Han barks as both he and Ben scramble with the control panel stretched in front of them both as they attempt to correct the problem.

“There’s a compressor on the hyperdrive,” Rey points out helpfully, making both men swear.

“Take us out of hyperdrive,” Ben barks, sounding fearful.

“I can fix it, just give me a minute.”

“We probably don’t have a minute.”

Rey leans closer, and squints at the compressor, tilting her head to make sure she’s understanding her readings correctly, then reaches in and pulls. Immediately the ship quiets, shuddering just slightly but it feels more like a sigh than another harbinger of doom.

Both men still in their seats before slowly turning towards her, twin looks of surprise on their faces.

“I bypassed the compressor,” she helpfully points out, holding up said compressor.

“Huh,” Han finally manages, then smiles. “I think you’ll fit right in around here, kid.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks to RebelRebel for beta reading this beast of a chapter!

Rey drops the compressor into Ben’s lap and retreats into the body of the ship. She had asked where they’re going, but no one had given her an answer, and the space was too small to linger in. So she slips back into the curved bench seat around the Darjeeling table, pushing the cuffs out of her way as she goes.

A few minutes later Chewie comes lumbering in, making low noises. She watches him throw open doors to compartments and then hauls out a box, slamming it onto the table and then roaring quietly at her.

“I don’t speak– uhh, Wookie?”

He makes a sad noise and turns his body, gesturing at his arm. “Oh! I can help with that,” she says with a nod, then watches as he shuffles off and collapses rather dramatically into a bed. She picks through the supplies, finds a small can of bacta spray (on the verge of expiration and mostly empty), as well as a roll of clean bandages. As far as first aid supplies go, it’s concerningly sparse — but reasonable, she supposes, if they just got this ship back again after it being left on Jakku.

“Okay, this is all you’ve got for right now.” He roars, loud enough to make her ears ring when she hits him with the bacta, prompting Han to shout back about not hurting Chewie. Rey grunts, winding the bandage around his arm.

“There you go, you big cry baby,” she says, tying it off and stepping back from him. “Do you wanna play?” she offers, pushing the box onto the floor and turning on the game. 

Chewie whines a moan, waves pathetically at her and rolls onto his side, back facing her, leaving her to blink in surprise. “Alright then,” she sighs, turning the game back off and dropping back into the seat, slouching low, feet stretched out below the table, crossed at her ankles.

She’s dozing lightly, head resting on the worn back of the bench and arms curled protectively around her when the heavy tread of boots approaching pulls her into alertness.

“Hey Mando,” Ben greets, slipping in the curved seat at the far end from her. She waits. “We’ll be landing soon. No funny business when we do, or I’ll cuff you again.”

“You into that sort of thing then?” she asks, laughing when he chokes on nothing and blushes furiously.

He attempts to recover with a quick, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” then stands suddenly, moving down the hall. She turns to watch him go, ignoring Chewie who is now sitting up surveying her. He chuffs a noise and a series of small rawrs. Rey crosses her arms and slouches back into her seat.

“Your tone says I’m teasing you, but I have no idea. For all I know you could be talking about what the weather will be like on the planet we’re heading towards.”

He laughs — it sounds sort of like a purr, but it makes Rey smile. She’s seen Wookiees before but never met one. She knows, has seen their power, how ruthless they can be when they need to, but this one; it's hard to imagine him that way, not when he basically pouted earlier, not when all he seems to do is snark Han Solo and his son all the time. 

Ben stalks back in and Chewie says something to him that has his flushing all over again. A muscle just beneath his left eye jumps. “What do you know, you walking carpet?” Another laugh follows and Rey jumps when Ben dumps her confiscated blasters onto the table.

“So we’re going nowhere good, then,” she observes, standing up and reaching for the closest one.

“It’s not the worst place,” Ben says, watching her place her weapons back on her person. One at her back, another on her thigh, one knife, strapped back where it belongs on her inner calf.

“Seems like overkill,” Ben mutters after she has everything back where she likes it.

Rey could tell him about the flamethrower that lies within her vambraces, but she just hums. “It’s for when I have to fight people like you,” she tells him, enjoying the way he frowns.

“People like me?” he asks, almost like he’s offended. Maybe he is, she doesn’t care.

“Yeah, you have the Force, I don’t–” She watches his mouth drop open like he has something to say, but then he snaps it shut. “So more weapons means more chances to win.”

“You fight Force sensitives often?” he asks, gaze narrowed in suspicion.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Rey feels the subtle vibration of the ship coming out of hyperspace and Ben takes that as his cue to head back towards the cockpit. Several minutes later there’s another jolt as they land. Chewie stands, then tilts his head, making eye contact with her. She follows. The ramp hisses as it descends and Rey scuttles down it onto the soft ground by the side of the lake they’ve landed by. Off in the distance, she spots the pillars of Maz’s castle. No funny business indeed. 

BB-8 comes clattering down the ramp ahead of Han and Ben, rolling up to her, almost over her toes. She’s sure her father would sigh if she could see this droid with her.

“Chewie is gonna stay here, work on the Falcon a bit. She needs some love,” Han informs her, stepping up beside her and BB-8.

“All right,” Rey says slowly, wondering where he might be going with this.

“I promised you a job,” he says, staring out across the lake, adjusting his belt.

“There are always jobs,” she replies. She’s genuinely confused by him. She had tried to take him as her bounty and now he’s trying to employ her.

“You heard them, back on the ship. That droid is wanted by some powerful people.” BB-8 beeps sadly, rocking back and forth. “So is my son,” he whispers, leaning in closer to her. “Just until we can get into unmarked ships and get the droid back safe to where it needs to be.”

“Where exactly does the droid need to go?”

“The Resistance.”

“No,” Rey says, attempting to stalk away towards the castle. Han’s hand grips her arm around her elbow, and jerks her back around to face him. Instinct has her hand reaching for the blaster at her hip, but she clenches her fist instead. “I don’t tangle in galaxy-wide affairs.”

“Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart, you already are. Whether you like it or not, someone’s paying you — might not come right from the top, but I’m sure if you looked into it–”

Rey yanks her arm free and Han releases her, holding up his hands. “I’ll consider it,” she eventually says.

And she does. The entire tense walk to the castle. She tries asking what’s so important about the droid at one point but gets shot down immediately by both men. Han at least tells her that if she comes with them she could find out. Ben, on the other hand, goes so far as to step between her and BB-8. 

Excessive. She sighs — loudly.

“Now. When we get in here,” Han explains, as they shoulder past a few patrons exiting the place, “don’t stare.”

“No one can see my eyes,” Rey offers.

“I’m not talking to you,” Han says, and they both turn to Ben, who shoves his hands in his pockets and sighs.

“It was one time.”

Han waves a hand, impatient. “Once was enough, don’t need to start another brawl.”

Rey chortles, earning a glare from Ben, but Han ignores them both, pushing open the doors. The place is loud, noise and music spilling out into the air to greet them as they enter.

“HAN SOLO!” A voice cuts through the din and Han deflates a bit, sighing heavily. Ben snorts as the racket pauses before picking back up, and they all watch a diminutive alien scurry across the cantina floor.

“Where's Chewie?” she asks as soon as she’s close enough. Eyes — enlarged from the glass covering them — take each of them in. Rey sucks in a sharp breath, and Maz looks in her direction. “You know I like that Wookiee,” she says, adjusting her glasses and stepping closer to Rey.

A small gnarled hand reaches up and strokes the insignia of her clan. “How’s your father, Rey?” 

“Hi Maz,” Rey says weakly, ignoring the way both of the Solo men are now staring at her, looking surprised and a bit incredulous. “He’s fine.”

“Come, come,” she says, turning from them. “I’ve got some people here you’ll want to meet.”

“Maz,” Han tries, “now really isn’t the time, we need–”

“I wasn’t asking, Solo.” She totters off, leaving them all staring after her.

“Same old Maz,” Ben grumbles. Rey hums in agreement, striding off after the small alien. BB-8 beeps behind her, and they all weave their way through the space. 

It’s not optimal, Rey realizes quickly, very aware of the eyes on her — on them all, the way they drift down to the droid following them.

“Dameron,” Ben’s voice comes from over her shoulder, sounding annoyed. “I should have known.”

“Solo.” He’s leaning back in his chair, boots up on the table, which Maz quickly knocks to the floor with an angry pointing finger jab at his chest. “Ah, sorry, sorry,” he whines, leaning away from her. He looks exhausted and dirty. A gash runs across his cheek and his dark hair is tousled like he’s run his hands through it one too many times, but his eyes are bright and when he grins he looks like he’s up to something.

His gaze lingers on Rey before catching sight of the droid, and he’s up and out of his seat in an instant, excitement palpable.

“Buddy!” He practically knocks into Rey in his haste to get to the droid, rubbing its body while BB-8 happily chirps. “Where did you end up finding him?”

“Made it all the way to Niima outpost,” Han grumbles, stepping around them and sinking down into a chair. “Who’s this?” he asks, tilting his head towards the dark-skinned man still sitting, body tense.

“Finn.” Poe stands and sits back down, then stares up at Rey. “Who’s the Mando?”

“She’s with us,” Ben says, voice low, and Poe’s brows shoot up in surprise. “Where did you find Finn? Last we heard you were a prisoner of the First Order.”

Rey watches Finn sink lower into his chair, hands fidgeting in his lap.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Rey asks, slipping into a seat. 

“Look,” Finn whispers, hunching his shoulders. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Maz laughs. “I like you. I hope that works out for you.” She winks and then turns. “I’ll bring you some drinks,” she calls back over her shoulder. 

“What does that mean?” Finn asks, straightening up, looking nervous. “She hopes I don’t get into trouble?”

“Do you know where you are, kid?” Han asks with a smirk.

“Yeah, Poe explained on the way.”

“Well, seems obvious enough then. Sure it’s neutral ground, but that doesn’t mean things don’t happen. Most of us have enough respect for Maz to behave ourselves. Doesn’t always happen.”

Maz reappears with drinks in hand and passes them around. “So. What kind of help do you need this time, Solo?” Her eyes dart down to the droid, who beeps and rolls under the table, out of sight.

“Ships. A ship. We need to get this droid back to the Resistance.”

Maz chuckles lowly. “Right back into the fight then, eh?”

Rey shifts in her seat and quietly scoffs the word, “Fight.” Flinches when Maz focuses on her with a tired smile.

“Yes. Always so contradictory, girl — you know the fight. It’s the only fight: against the Dark side. Through the ages, I’ve seen evil take many forms. The Sith. The Empire. Today, it’s the First Order. You know it’s true, even if you like to pretend to hide from it. Their shadow is spreading across the galaxy. We must face them. Fight them. All of us.”

Rey watches Finn tense through Maz’s speech and is surprised when he snaps at her. “There is no fight against the First Order!” 

**“** Hey, hey, easy, Finn,” Poe tries to calm him down, a hand on his shoulder, but Finn shrugs away from him.

“I’m serious. It’s not a fight we can win. Look around. There’s _no_ chance we haven’t been recognized already. I bet you the First Order is on their way right–” he swallows the rest of his sentence when Maz begins adjusting her goggles. Beside her, Ben covers his mouth, hiding his grin. 

“What?” Finn blurts. “What is this? What are you doing?”

They all watch as Maz adjusts the goggles again, her eyes getting impossibly bigger. Then she grunts, quickly hoisting herself up onto the tabletop, knocking aside plates of food while Han lifts his drink to avoid it getting knocked over.

“Hey– hey, what’s she doing?” Finn asks, sounding panicked, leaning back as Maz draws ever closer.

“I don’t know,” Han chuckles, “but it ain’t good.”

“If you live long enough you see the same eyes in different people. I’m looking at the eyes of a man who wants to run.”

“Kinda obvious,” Ben mutters under his breath. Rey kicks the back of his calf with the toe of her shoe.

Poe attempts to come to Finn’s defense, but he just holds up a hand, not looking away from Maz as he responds, voice a low growl. “You don’t know a thing about me. Where I’m from. What I’ve seen. You don't know the First Order like I do. They'll slaughter us. We all need to run.”

A surprised silence fills the air and Poe slumps a little in his seat, and Rey can feel Han and Ben exchanging a look over her head. Maz just hums quietly, crawling back off of the table and turning to point across the crowded room to a pair of pirates in a dark corner.

“You see those two?” she asks, turning back to Finn. “They’ll trade work for transportation to the Outer Rim. There you can disappear.” She adjusts her glasses back to normal while they all wait.

“Finn,” Poe’s voice is low, urgent. “Come on, we could really use you, your help, your knowledge. Besides, it’s like fate, right? Two bucket heads.”

“You’re not cute, you know that, right?” Rey asks, which only makes Poe grin and wink at her. 

Finn isn’t even listening to their exchange, chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes staring at nothing. “I can’t stay,” he eventually says, then pushes back from the table to stand. “Sorry,” he mutters, turning to leave.

“Damnit,” Poe grouses, “I’ll be back. He needs some sense talked into him.” He stands, following after Finn.

“So,” Maz starts after a beat. “Which one of you is being hunted this time? Or did you just happen to run into Rey.”

“It was me,” Han grumbles, making the small alien laugh. 

“Of course it was, who did you upset?”

“Who hasn’t he upset?” Ben asks, making Maz laugh some more. 

“You Solo boys, always getting into trouble — it’s a miracle Leia keeps letting you out of her sight.” She slips from her chair and stands. “Try to behave? I’ll see if I can’t find you some transport.”

“Thanks, Maz,” Han calls after her. She waves back at them as she walks away.

“So, now what?” Ben eventually asks, slowly spinning his glass in circles.

“See if Poe can talk some sense into the trooper. Hopefully, get a ship. Get this droid back to the Resistance.”

“What’s so special about the droid anyway?” Rey asks, turning to watch Poe make an impassioned plea to Finn. “Does it have First Order schematics on it or something?”

“No,” Ben huffs. “That would be incredibly useful. It's a piece of a map.”

“Boring,” Rey says, making Han snort and Ben roll his eyes.

“It’s not just any piece of a map,” Ben tells her, leaning closer. “It’s supposed to be the missing piece to finding my uncle Luke. He went missing six years ago. We thought he died — there was an attack, by the Knights of Ren. They were looking for me. Destroyed everything in their path. We recently found out he was still alive, hidden away on some unknown planet.”

“What? Why? And why are they after _you_?”

“Maybe not the best time or place for this discussion,” Han cuts in and Ben pulls back from Rey immediately. “Once we’re somewhere safe and secure.”

She sighs, the word fine on the tip of her tongue when Ben tenses beside her. “Did you hear that?” he asks sharply, now pushing back his chair to stand.

“No. Sit back down, Ben,” Han urges, but Ben is walking away from them already. “Kriff. That can’t be good.”

“Wait, what?” Rey asks, standing when Han does, eyes watching Ben move towards a dark archway across the cantina.

“Likely some Force thing. I gave up trying to understand how it works years ago,” Han informs her, voice low and gruff, trying to keep the exchange between the two of them as they walk.

“Oh,” she says, and then hears someone scream.

“Woah, woah, Rey, what are you doing?” Han asks, and she blinks, surprised to find her blaster drawn.

“Someone — you didn’t hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Come on,” Rey huffs instead, reholstering her weapon and descending down the stairs quickly. Han and BB-8 clatter down behind her.

Ben is there, at the end of the corridor, silhouetted in the dim light. She can just make out his shoulders, heaving with every breath he takes.

“Ben!” Han shouts, and he flinches, and Rey adjusts her settings so she can see everything clearly in the dim light — he looks wild-eyed and panicked. 

“Dad,” he gasps, “Dad, I’m so sorry, I think — I think he’s coming for me.”

Han speaks, but Rey doesn’t hear him, all she can hear is someone crying, so she moves forward, towards Ben and the door he’s hovering outside of. It’s closed still, but it slowly swings open at her approach. Ben says something to her, reaches out, but she shrugs away from him, tripping over the threshold and into silence.

The room is a mess, cluttered and full of treasures that litter the floor and line the walls. It would all fetch a pretty penny, of that she has no doubt, but there’s something in here calling to her, and she needs to answer. There on the table, an unassuming, old wooden box rests. _This is it._

Slowly, she reaches out to touch it — and then shouts in surprise when Ben slaps her hand away.

“Don’t touch it,” he practically growls, holding her hand tight.

“Get off of me,” she spits back, reaching her other arm up to land a quick and hard blow against his forearm, forcing him to release her.

“Rey, I mean it,” he urges. “Can you talk to me? For just a minute?” She pauses, hand poised above the box and waits.

“Did you hear it too?” she asks, watching him step carefully into her line of sight.

“What did you hear, Rey?” he asks.

“Someone was crying, did you hear them?”

“I did.” He scrutinizes her now, eyes intense and dark. She watches him swallow, then his eyes flick down to the box and he flips it open. “Well kriff,” he whispers beside her, and she blinks. It’s a lightsaber — nestled carefully among other items that seem to mostly be junk. “This was my uncle Luke’s,” he laughs a little. “Lost it fighting Vader in Cloud City.”

“Ben, wait–” she tries, hand darting out to push his away, but it’s too late. They both make contact with the saber.

She hears it ignite. It pierces her ears with the sudden noise of it, and both her and Ben’s hands fall away.

“Don’t move,” Ben says, his breath now ragged, mingling with a strange mechanical breathing she’s never heard before. 

“What is this?” she asks, voice carried away from her as she looks up only to find that they’re both somewhere strange. Dark angled halls, interspersed with light, _somewhere._ They can hear people talking, but the voices are unclear.

Rey turns and blinks, sure none of this is real, but no, there in the distance two figures are locked in combat. She tries to start towards them, but Ben’s hand falls heavy on her wrist. Then someone calls their names.

“Hello?” she calls out, even knowing it’s irrational for anyone to respond, but there at the end of the hall is a boy, so small, with messy dark hair and wide eyes. She starts towards him, pulling Ben along with her and then the world turns, both of them crashing into the wall, which has somehow become the ground.

Someone is screaming again, and she’s scrambling to her feet, Ben slowly standing as well. Beneath their feet the grass is dry, cracking and snapping as they step on it. It’s night, wherever they are, but in the distance a building burns, and next to her Ben gasps.

“Luke,” he whispers, frantically turning in place, and then tripping towards a kneeling figure behind them, a blue and silver droid mournfully beeping beside him. They don’t seem to notice the two of them, and Rey notices tears in the old man’s eyes as he stares at the burning building. Then the skies open up and it begins to pour.

Rey slips in the mud, Ben reaching for her, catching her fingertips. She makes a startled noise — there’s a man behind him. Quickly, Ben hauls her to her feet and positions himself between her and the man coming at them with a weapon. Then a beam of red juts through the man’s middle as he screams. He lands on the wet ground with a sickening slap, but Rey sidles closer to Ben, fingers grasping and twisting in his vest. 

He’s here — the being that has visited her before, in her dreams, in her _nightmares_ , and he’s not alone. She doesn’t know his name, or who they are, but she can feel the menacing aura they give off. Lightning flashes through the sky and suddenly, it’s day.

It’s just her and Ben again, and she’s grateful for her armor, that her hair isn’t a sodden mess around her face like Ben’s is.

“ _No, come back!_ ” The voice cuts through her, and she turns in shock to find herself. Small and helpless, tiny arm trapped in the meaty grip of Unkar Plutt. Rey pivots back around just in time to watch the starship disappear into the sky.

“Quiet, girl,” Unkar rumbles, and she hears the pop of her small shoulder dislocate, watches helplessly as she’s dragged away. Din doesn’t show up this time.

“Come back!” Rey whispers, tripping through the sand after herself, Ben hot on her heels as the sky above them begins to grow dark. She trips over a root, grunting in surprise, then quickly pushes herself up, turning to look at Ben, who looks just as lost as she feels. They’re in the woods, and it’s snowing. 

She reaches for Ben, lets him help her up, and again it’s like feeling sort of weightless and she stumbles a bit into him as she rights her footing.

“I’m losing my mind,” she whispers, panicked, towards his chest.

“You and me both,” he answers, “come on.” She follows him as he moves through the woods, and she can make out what he must have heard to take him in this direction. The sound of lightsabers clashing. At least, that’s what she can only guess it to be, reminiscent of the sound of Ben’s saber, and the fight when they had first fallen into this hell. Ben begins to run, and Rey moves to catch up, feet thumping across the forest floor. She can hear her heart pounding in her ears, and then the man is back, emerging suddenly from behind a tree — the same man they had seen in the rain, with the crackling red saber. Rey swallows the scream that tears up her throat, letting it die with a whimper, and Ben stops so abruptly she runs right into him. She teeters on her feet — flailing, she reaches for him, and together they fall backwards.

They land hard on the ground, and Ben quickly rolls off of her and onto his hands and knees, breathing deeply while Rey lays there staring at the carved smooth ceiling of Maz’s castle. 

A noise at the end of the hall draws both their gazes. Maz stands there, Han looking worried as he hovers just behind her. Maz looks shocked.

“What was that?” They ask in unison, and Ben turns to glare at her, she wishes he could see her roll her eyes.

“That lightsaber was Luke’s.” Maz answers, tottering towards them, gesturing at the weapon that is now laying innocuously on the floor between them.

“I know that,” Ben grunts, pushing up onto his knees. “Where did you find it?”

“Not important,” Maz dismisses with a handwave, and Rey watches Ben’s mouth drop open to most likely protest, but Maz ignores him. “Before it was Luke’s it was his father’s, and now–” she cuts off with a small frown, looking between them both. “It’s calling to you both.”

“No.” Rey denies, rolling so she can stand, “that isn’t right. It was a mistake.” She insists, confident in the words her brother had told her years ago. That she doesn’t have what he has. She’s not in touch with the Force. At all.

Ben looks almost sickly as he wobbles on his feet, hand braced against the wall. “I have to go,” he mutters quickly, careening crookedly down the hall.

“Ben,” Han tries, reaching out, hand brushing his shoulder. 

“Not now, Dad, I need some air.” He stumbles up the stairs and Rey watches Maz pick up the saber. 

“No,” Rey croaks, backing away.

“Just hold onto it.”

“I don’t want it.”

Maz frowns, and shakes it in her direction. “Then give it to Ben.”

Hesitantly, she reaches out for it again, exhaling in relief when nothing happens, then she looks up to find Han staring at her.

“You good, kid?” he asks, body adopting a relaxed stance. Rey nods. “Good, come on. I want to make sure Ben is okay.”

Rey makes her way back up the stairs to the cantina proper, managing to clip the saber onto her belt as she walks. It’s quieter up here now, and several people point to the front door when they take notice of Han. There’s a small crowd gathered there now — Finn and Poe are down in the small courtyard, still looking like they’re bickering, but light in the sky draws her gaze. The beings around her all make noises of distress, drawing the eyes of Finn and Poe.

“It’s the Republic!” Finn gasps, grasping at Poe’s arm. Poe is nodding frantically, turning to drag him towards Han as they all stare up at the sky. “I can’t believe it,” he whispers in shock as they all watch the Hosnian System burst into scattered fragments of light.

“Rey,” Han says, voice quiet but frightening. He refuses to look at her. “Rey, I need you to find my son, and no matter what happens, don’t leave him. Do you understand?”

“I–”

“Yes or no?” Han asks, the high pitched scream of First Order ships fills the air, and he turns to her. “Rey?”

“Yes. I– yes.” She nods dumbly for a moment and rushes down the steps. Poe gestures at her.

“He went north!”

It’s easy to track him. A large man lumbering carelessly through the woods. He left a trail as plain as day. Anyone would be able to find him.

Later, _later_ , she can worry and overthink about whatever that weird thing was in the castle, for now, she’s well aware that Ben Solo has a bounty on his head. And something tells her things won’t end well for him if someone manages to bring him in.

“Ben!” she calls, catching sight of him. He’s slowing down, but he doesn’t stop.

“Stay back!” he shouts as she skids into the clearing he’s in, hunched over, hands on his knees and panting.

“No,” she growls, stomping over towards him. “You know, you’ve got a lot of nerve, running away like that when you’ve, when you know — and I’ve never.” She unclips the saber from her belt and holds it out for him. “My brother likes to tell me I don’t know the first thing about the Force. He’s explained it to me before, as much as he understands.” Ben cautiously takes the hilt of the blade from her, tilting his head up as she continues to talk. “I’m sure he’s right, don’t tell him I said that though, but what happened–”

“It was a vision,” Ben manages to tell her through gritted teeth. 

“But I don’t have the Force,” she insists curtly, “I can’t do anything cool. See, look.” She holds her hand out and focuses on one of the rocks nearby. Not even a wobble.

Ben laughs, more bark than a true laugh, and stands up to his full height. “That’s not how the Force works. Even so, visions like that are rare. You must have some sort of affinity.”

“Doubtful,” Rey scoffs, earning a lopsided smile from Ben that quickly fades into one of terror. 

“Hello again, Ben,” the voice comes from behind Rey, and she turns quickly, stepping to her left to place herself more firmly between Ben and the voice. 

“Ren,” Ben greets, sounding far more calm than Rey feels. Because there’s no mistaking the beings that are flanking ‘Ren’. They’re all from their shared vision. 

“Been a long time. We’ve been looking for you.” Rey isn’t sure how Ren can see anything at all, face encompassed by a mask, solid save for a red marking in the center of it. “Snoke has an offer.”

Slowly the beings in black are moving to circle the two of them. These aren’t terrible odds, but they aren’t great either.

“I’m sure he does,” Ben spits. “I don’t want to hear it.” 

Ren laughs, sounding unbothered, spreading out his arms, and it’s then Rey realizes with a small amount of horror that he is topless. Darkness mars his skin — she thought it was clothing, but no, it’s charred and scarred flesh. She swallows, hand dropping to her blaster. 

“He thought you might say that.” He sounds positively gleeful about this turn of events. “No precious uncle to save you this time, just a lonely little Mando, who doesn’t even look like they’re worth the effort.” He wiggles his fingers in Rey’s direction, and her lip curls with a snarl that goes unseen.

Around them his men make small noises of amusement. She switches her input to better track all of them, two are in her blind spot, but she’s just going to have to trust Ben.

“I don’t need my uncle’s help,” Ben says, voice flat and bored. Rey feels him shift behind her.

“We’ll see.” Ren still sounds amused. Then he shifts, but not to fight, he lifts his helmet from his head and Rey stares in shock. He’s _pretty_. At least from the neck up. He’s older, but that ambiguous type of older where it’s nearly impossible to pinpoint an age. Wrinkles accent his eyes — a piercing shade of blue — as well as his smug smile; his hair is white, twisted with braids. In short, he looks nothing like the monster the rest of his body would lead her to believe exists beneath the mask.

“Oh, Ben, surely you aren’t planning to fight. We just came to talk.”

“You never just come to talk. Tell me, Ren, weren’t you so insistent you all belonged to no one? How long have you been sucking Snoke’s shriveled dick?”

The reaction is instant. Ren draws his weapon, also a lightsaber, an angry shade of red, but not the chaotic beam from the vision. 

“Then we won’t talk,” Ren agrees, looking gleeful at the opportunity to fight. “Kill the Mando, the Supreme Leader wants the boy taken alive.”3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/hellomelusine)


	4. Chapter 4

Ren moves fast. Faster than Rey is expecting, and she just barely dodges the swing of his blade as it arcs through the air, cutting into the space she had just been standing in. 

“Oh, it's like that, huh?” she exhales, the thrill of combat coiling within her, watching Ren’s lip curl in disgust as he spares a second to look at her.

“No, it really isn’t,” he sneers, a smirk now overtaking his expression as he whirls away from her to strike at Ben. He doesn’t know then; that she can see them all. Perhaps he’s never fought someone like her. 

The blaster is in her hand and hot before any of the other masked adversaries can move. She fires, blasting the one closest to her back, his helmet pings off of the tree with a low tone, but he’s otherwise fine, armor protecting him. The next blow comes from a knight with a sword. The force of the impact vibrates through her armor and she feels it in her teeth. _Kriff_.

They’re organized and menacing and Rey feels a slowly sinking feeling that perhaps their odds weren’t so great after all. A bunch of random thugs on an outpost she can handle, a band of mercenaries are no big deal, but the chosen warriors of the First Order, even with help, might be too much.

A blast sends her staggering, and she turns, fixing a stare he can’t see on the knight who had backed away from the battle, heavy artillery covering his body, a cannon of a rifle held up. Ben and Ren are off to her left and she makes a rude gesture at the far knight. 

“Missed!” She calls across the small battlefield.

He tilts his head and chuckles come from behind her. The acrid, ozone scent of the blast permeates her helmet and her sensors go off, warning her that above all else she’s way cockier than she should be as wood creaks, and a tree topples towards her. 

She rolls, and the low rumble and crack of the tree hitting the forest floor halts the battle for all of a second before two knights are springing over it towards her, another two circling Ben and Ren. Her momentary worry is for naught as she watches Ben reach out with the hand not wrapped around the saber and the knights are flung backwards. Ren snarls something low Rey can’t make out and Ben’s expression hardens.

Rey pulls her staff from behind her and spins it with purpose, going after the one who struck her with a sword. It’s only a distraction, and as she whips her weapon around, watching him deflect it, she brings her arm up and tilts her wrist, incapacitating bolts flying free and embedding into the underarm of his dominant side, free of armor. He collapses, twitching from electric shocks, onto the ground, and Rey turns to face the next one. 

It’s rough, and she’s sweating under her armor and she’s looking forward to time spent in the fresher after all of this, hell, she would even take the tingly quick shock of a sonic. She meets her next opponent head-on with a growl that crackles through the modulator on her helmet, a low chuckle matches it.

An explosion rocks the forest, and smoke curls up in the air from the direction of the palace.

“Kriff,” she hisses, arms buckling under the constant strain of the knight currently wearing her down. He’s vicious and relentless and _strong_. The constant hum and buzz as Ben and Ren fight are background noise to the way her breath is loud beneath her helmet.

“Scared?” The knight in front of her asks, amusement lacing his tone. “I would be if I were you. Just a little girl in a mask, aren’t you.”

“You get all the ladies with that line, don’t you?” she asks and then grunts, bringing her leg up to kick him. He staggers back with a growl then charges at her.

When he drops suddenly she freezes, arm raised to fire at him, but the smoldering fabric at his shoulder didn’t come from her and she turns to find the source. 

Behind her, past the now paused fight between Ben and Ren stands a familiar silhouette, bodies of two other knights at his feet.

“Hi dad,” Rey says weakly, making the two men between them swing their gaze towards her. She ignores them, cowed under the heavy weight of her father’s hidden gaze. From his hip an ear peeks out, then a head. “Of course,” Rey mutters, rolling her eyes at the delighted grin her brother wears, an expression that just screams ‘ _you’re in trouble’_ on display.

Ren leers and takes the opportunity to strike. “No!” Rey shouts, moving to intercept the blow. She’s too late, and there’s a hiss and a howl of pain. She fires at him blindly.

“Bitch,” he shouts, and she’s pleased to see her aim wasn’t completely off and she at least caught his shoulder. Ben hits the ground, knees first and there’s so much blood splattered across the forest floor. The saber he had been wielding slips from his hands and rolls towards her. She watches him reach up with trembling hands and touch his face before he falls the rest of the way.

“Don’t touch him!” Rey barks at Ren, rushing forward as he lifts his blade to strike at Ben again. Her brother shouts something in Mando’a at her but she doesn’t hear it as she bends down, scooping the saber up and activating it. It’s light and feels foreign in her hand, but at the same time feels like an extension of her.

“If I would have known you’d give me this much trouble I would have focused on killing you first, instead of letting my knights play games.” Ren spits, pivoting towards her. She shouts, vicious and loud, and swings wildly at him, the low hum of the weapon is like music. It sings through the air and meets the red blade with a wild flash of light. “Untrained,” Ren titters, amused, leaning close to her. “You’ve no hope. It’s a shame you’ll die here, and your attempt at a rescue will be for naught. What Snoke wants, Snoke gets.”

“Not this time,” she growls, as he pulls back to swing at her again, she parries and pushes, moving them away from Ben. “ _Gaa'tayl kaysh_ (Help him)!” She barks in the direction of her father and brother, not waiting to see if they move, just pushing, pushing, pushing.

There’s scuffling from behind her and Ren looks away, towards whatever is happening and his face grows pale. “No,” he whispers, rage twisting his features before he attacks Rey with an anger and force she wasn’t anticipating. She buckles under the onslaught, tastes the acrid bitterness of his emotions on her tongue as she’s pushed onto her knees.

Ben groans in pain and she can hear her brother muttering lowly to him, as her father slips into her line of sight in infrared. The shock net hits Ren right in the chest and he topples over, eyes rolling back in his head. Around them, the unconscious bodies of the knights lay scattered. She’s sure none of them are dead.

“Rey,” Din’s voice is low with urgency as he steps even closer to her, “come on, The First Order is sending reinforcements, Maz’s castle has already been razed-”

“Okay, yeah,” she nods, casting one lingering look at Ren. On a wild impulse, she scoops up the saber he had been using and clips it to her belt. “Let’s go.”

Together she and Din get Ben onto his feet. Blood is dripping from the not quite sealed wound on his face and neck, down into his shirt, a bloom of dark red on the pale fabric. He groans, head lolling to the side as he stands on trembling legs.

“My dad,” he slurs.

“We’ll contact him once we’re in the air, my ship is closer, it's a risk to go back,” Din informs him, and Ben groans. Kir’manir hurries along behind them, quickly catching up and entering the ship before them all.

“I’ll get us in the air,” he says and both Rey and Din grunt in acknowledgment.

“Patch him up,” Din instructs, tone cold as they put him down in the tiny med bay, on the same bed Rey had occupied a lifetime ago when he had first found her on Jakku. Rey nods, reaching to open the supply cupboard. “Then meet me in the cockpit so we can contact his people.”

“The Resistance,” Rey mutters, feeling numb. “He’s with the resistance.”

“ _Shi ner jate'kara_ (just my luck),” Din sighs and Rey takes a steadying breath. She turns to look up at her father as he lingers in the doorway, but he doesn’t say anything else, merely shakes his head and leaves.

“Take off your shirt,” Rey says, pulling off her gloves then quickly ripping open bacta patches.

“Knew it,” Ben mumbles, swaying where he sits and blinking blearily at her. 

“What?” Rey asks, slapping one over his cheek and pressing on it gently until she’s sure it’s stabilized.

“Just wanted to see me with my shirt off.”

Rey snorts beneath her helmet. “Sure. I love getting naked with dudes who knock me out.”

“Maybe I like getting naked with girls who kick my ass.”

“ _Laar gi'ah gar narir at kaysh?_ (what did you do to him?)” Kir’manir’s amused voice comes from the hall and Rey huffs in exasperation, holding Ben’s face still so she can carefully place another patch around his eye.

“ _Naas_ (nothing),” She grunts, clicking her tongue when Ben sways to the left. “Hang on,” she says, fingers digging into the sodden fabric over his shoulder.

“ _Kaab emuurir gar gotal'ur a jate eskralr_ (sounds like you made a good impression).”

“Who are you?” Ben asks and Rey’s brother sighs.

“We spoke, right after your face got sliced open.”

“We did? Hey!” He complains, then winces in pain. “What are you doing?” He asks, staring wide-eyed at Rey as she rips the rest of his shirt.

“I told you to take this off. You’re injured and still losing blood. Idiot.”

“Don’t worry, this is how she shows affection,” Kir’manir adds cheerfully.

“ _Gar ru uhyih gaa'tayl_ (you aren’t helping)” Rey grouses, picking up two more patches and placing them along his neck and down over his collarbone. Ren got in a really good hit, and a small tendril of guilt rears its head before she tamps it down.

“ _Ni cuyir stas patkase_ (I’m the most helpful)!” Kir’manir says cheerfully, showing off his sharp teeth and rocking on his feet.

“Ignore him,” Rey tells Ben, placing the last two patches on his chest, “that’s what I always do.” The words taste like paper on her tongue, and she’s glad she’s hidden beneath the beskar because she’s confident she’s blushing. He’s big, and she knew that - had his body pressed against hers in the galley of the falcon hours ago, but it’s different seeing it.

Rey takes a slow step back. “Watch him, yeah?” She asks, looking down at her brother who looks positively gleeful at the prospect. “And behave, he needs rest, not your never-ending chatter.”

“ _Lek, lek, Ni tayli'bac. Ni malyasa'yr bu'neya_ (yeah. Yeah, I got it. I’ll behave),”he says, toddling over to a low chair, while Rey watches Ben sink back to lean against the wall behind him.

“ _Gar ru hbaih tid'ica be miit_ (you don’t know the meaning of the word),” Rey laughs.

“ _Vam narir gar. Ret'urcye mhi_ (neither do you. Goodbye).” He waves at her as she turns to leave and she curses him when she trips just a little, not expecting the gentle push of the Force as she exits the small room. 

“What did I say about easy jobs?” Din asks as she slips into the cockpit, settling down in the co-pilot’s chair.

“It was easy,” Rey defends quickly. “Should have been easy,” she huffs, crossing her arms and slouching. “The guy back there, Ben, he’s my mark’s son, has the Force,” Din swears and Rey grins. “Exactly and then I Kriffing _ran into_ the idiots who contracted the guild. It’s been a whole mess.”

There’s quiet for a while, and finally, Din gestures at the comms. “Contact who you need to.”

“How’d you know?” Rey asks as she readies to send out a signal.

“Your ship was abandoned, Rey, we were on our way to Jakku when Maz got a message to me. We came straight here.”

“Well thanks,” she says turning towards him, “for the rescue.”

His voice is gruff when he answers, “ _gar cuyir ner ad_ (You’re my daughter).”

Rey lifts her helmet from her head, feeling safe that Ben won’t be escaping her brother’s chattering, assuming he doesn’t pass out first. She swivels in her seat as she types in the code that will put her in contact with the ship Han should be on. Worst case scenario she has a stilted conversation with a Wookiee. “ _Kar'taylir darasuum gar, sayr_ (I love you, dad),” she whispers the words and grins when Din grunts in reply. That was okay. He doesn’t say it often, but she knows the affection he holds in his heart for both she and her brother. He proves it over and over again every day in his actions.

“How did you get this connection, this is a classified ship,” the rough voice of Han crackles through the cockpit.

Rey snorts, “Han, it’s Rey.”

“Rey? Kriff kid, you alright? Where’s my son? Tell me he’s okay.”

“He’ll live, I mean, he’s fine!” She backpedals her snark a little bit. “Bit of a rough fight, who the hell were those guys?”

There’s quiet on the other send so long, Rey is sure they’ve somehow dropped the signal, but finally, Han speaks, voice rough. “Snoke’s favorite band of misfits. I'd call them bounty hunters but that would do a disservice to the name. They play by different rules, my son is their number one mark, has been for years. Don’t know how to quit. Snoke or those damn knights.” The line crackles with static and then falls quiet for a moment before Han’s voice fills the cockpit once more. “Suppose you’ll be needing some coordinates.”

“That would be nice,” Din drawls making Rey roll her eyes.

“Who the hell are you.”

“Din Djarin.”

“Hell, just what I need, more Mandos.”

“We’re friendly,” Rey laughs, “mostly.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll send the coordinates through. No funny business once we touch down.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Din answers before the line goes dead. “So I see you’ve made an excellent impression.”

Rey picks up her helmet and puts it back on her head as she stands. “Sure, we can call it that. I’m gonna go make sure Kir’manir isn’t talking Ben’s ear off.”

“We’re not done talking, Rey.”

She sighs, pausing in the doorway and glancing back at her father. “I know. Once Ben is back with his people and safe you can-“

“Rey,” Din interrupts, pulling off his helmet now and turning to look at her. “All I want is for you to be careful _olar_ (here),” he lifts a hand and taps his temple, “ _bal olar_ (and here). _”_ His hand settles over his chest and his gaze softens. “ _Gar malyasa’yr ratiin cuyir ner ad, a nau’ur kad gar srukre jupayr malyasa’yr eak cuyir vabiyamte_ (you will always be my daughter, but forging your own path will one day be inevitable).”

“ _Sayr_ (dad),” Reay croaks the word, it sounds even more feeble having to pass through her mask, but he merely smiles at her, replacing his helmet.

“Go, send your brother up, we aren’t far, according to the coordinates.” Rey lingers for another moment watching her father work before slipping quietly away.

The high pitched chatter of Kir’manir greets her when her feet touch down on the hull of the ship.

“—and her teeth!” He exclaims as Rey enters the room. Ben looks groggy and mystified while her brother paces in front of him.

“What’s wrong with my teeth?” She asks, making Ben let out a small noise of surprise while her brother laughs.

“They’re not normal,” he says, gnashing his own at her and making her laugh.

“Says you, you little green weirdo. Dad wants you in the cockpit, I think mostly to leave our guest in peace.”

Kir’manir shuffles around her. “We were having a nice chat. Told him all of your deepest darkest secrets.”

Rey rolls her eyes “ _Slana’pir be olar_ (get out of here).” His laugh echoes through the ship.

“How are you feeling?” she asks after a beat.

“Been better.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. The good news is, most beings are really into guys with scars.”

Ben laughs and then winces a bit. “You promise?” he asks and Rey shakes her head. ”Your brother told me you have eighteen toes.”

“Big talk from an alien with only six.” She lifts her hands. “Very humanoid. Don’t know where I’m from originally, but my dad found me on Jakku.”

Ben grins, eyes heavy with exhaustion. “Jakku — Ten,” he mutters words slurring, before slumping over and falling asleep.

“Great,” Rey sighs, perching herself on the closest surface to Ben. Only to make sure she’s close enough should he start to roll off the table, she tells herself, even as she studies the way his hair falls over his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Kir'manir in Mando'a means to adopt or give a soul to someone, and mostly I'm in love with the second part because I feel like that's apt to the relationship to Mando and Baby Yoda.


End file.
